Malaria

So like I said in the last post.....I would talk about Malaria.

So anyway, when I left the Peace Corps, I was given a full medical evaluation complete with blood tests and all that good stuff (which I never did get the results on). After all that was done I was given pills to take to kill off any Malaria in me. Which was fine and dandy, untill I got home....and half the pills crushed. but I figured that all would be well. I mean really, could I have honestly been exposed to Malaria while I was in Kenya. I thought it was highly unlikely.

But I ended up starting to get sick a few weeks after I came home. Nothing to bad, just tired all the time. Every once in a while I would get a small fever. but really nothing that alarmed me. i figured I was just getting used to being home. Then I kept getting sicker. My fevers would last longer and I started getting the chills. Having been told a million times by Medical that these were they symptoms of Malaria, i was pretty sure that I had it. But I couldn't get in to see a doctor, because there are mostly PA's in this area and even to see them it was hard. When I finally did get in to see a PA, he really didn't do much. I tod him "I have Malaria. I got it while I was in Kenya. It is most likely Cloroquine resistant." But instead he tried to make me pee in a cup.

That night I got home and I felt fine. But then had the worst fever ever. My body started shaking and I ached everywhere. I kept hitting my head and screaming out. It was horrible. I kept seeing things and felt like there were people at my door watching me. My body was so cold and my head was so hot. I kept thrashing around and everytime I felt like I had get up, I fell to the ground.

The next morning my mom was going to take me to another doctor, to see if there wasn't something else that could be done. When she came to wake me up however, my skin was pale yellow and I couldn't move. As I struggled to get dressed (I kept falling over), I started feeling nasous. Somehow I managed to run to the bathroom in the nick of time and threw up whatever I had in my tummy. When I was finished my mom said screw the doctor and said I was going to the hospital. I had to hold myself up against the wall because I couldn't stand up on my own.

The whole way to the hospital (45 minutes) I threw up. It was mostly a daze for me. Once I got to the hospital they pumpd me up with morphine and ran a TON of tests. I had no clue what was happening to be honest. Afer being in the ER for a few hours, they relesed me to the care of my mother (who is an acupuncturest and nurse). That night was horrible and if it wasn't for the pain killers, it would have been a lot worse.

The next day I somehow managed to get myself up and to an interview (I got the job), but that night I kept itching like crazy, which turned out to be an allergic reaction to the pills that they gave me in the hospital. Eventually things got worked out and in the end I managed to fully recover.

So I learned to religiously take your malaria pills while in Africa and that malaria is a real threat and a nasty disese.

Home

Well, alas, my peace corps journey has ended. I have returned home or ET'ed. It was an increadible journey and I truely miss it and cherish every moment, but I know this is where I am supposed to be.

When we arrived in Kenya, so much was going through my head. I was nervous, excited, everything. But soon after getting to know everyone, my fears went away and soon I began the hard-core training. It seemed as soon as we touched down in Nairobi, we began our language and culture lessons. Soon we were taken to Kitui, where we would spend the next few months training for the next two years. We spent the first few days at the pastoral center while they prepped us for homestay. That's where most of us got to know each other. Then it was off to our homestay families. And that is where I began to have my first doubts about being there. I'll admit it was mostly my fear of my new "family", but after a few encouraging words from some of my best friends and a phone call home, I was ready to face Peace Corps Kenya.

My homestay mama was nothing like I expected her to be. She was a very strong woman with a gigantic heart. My siblings were the cutest things ever. My closest PCT was a girl that I became good friends with. We were in a all girl training group with one of my favorite trainiers Sam (it didn't hurt that he was cute, but alas, married). And as the weeks went by, I began to love Kenya.

But then I started feeling depressed. When I was at my house I wanted to be with my friends. When I was with my friends, I wanted to be at my house. When I was alone I wanted to be with tons of people and with people I wanted nothing more than to be by myself. I had so many conflicting emotions and soon it seemed that everytime I called home, all I wanted to do was go home. I was crying myself to sleep everynight and when I would fall asleep, my dreams would be horrible and realistic. Some of my closest friends were wearing on my last nerve. I know now that many of those syptoms had a lot to do with the Malaria Prophalaxtic I was taking, but I also knew to reconize when some of those feelings were my own.

However, I didn't want to appear to be a failure, in my own eyes as well as my family's eyes. So I hung in there. I switched my Malaria meds and sucked it up. i knew I would regret leaving if I didn't make it out to site. And finally it came. I was so nervous when we got our announcements and even though I was placed at a great site with an awesome group to work with, I cried. I knew then that I didn't want to be in Kenays no more, even though I loved the country. So I went to my site, and I tried to find reasons to go home. My house wasn't that good, the group didn't need me, whatever I could. But in the end I realized that it was me and not the site at all. So on the way back to training, I thought long and hard. I weighed all my options and knew that deep down, my time to go home had come.

My first instinct was to just leave and not tell anyone. I didn't want to be seen as a quitter by my peers or anything like that. But the bonds that I created with my peers was much stronger than that and before I knew it, I was crying on everyones shoulders and having a hard time saying good bye. I gave a tearful speech to show my appreciation to the trainers and my respect for my fellow volunteers. But in the end, I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

I traved to Nairobi the same day I announced my decidion. I spent three days there and was very much relieved to have a close friend of mine there with me (she needed to be with medical staff). And as the plane finally arrived in Denver, I knew that home is where I was meant to be.

So now I am back home, and I have a great job. I am planning a trip back to visit all my friends and some days I miss Kenya terribly. But I believe that all things happen for a reason. I know that Kenya will always be a part of who I am and my experiences there have shaped me to the person I am, but for now, this is where I am supposed to be.

Next time......my experiences with Malaria......